Din's Chosen Hero
by Slavok
Summary: Just because everyone deserves the chance to be a hero. Every time, a courageous hero saves Hyrule from evil, but this time, the kingdom is in danger and only a man blessed with Din's power can save them. But will he rise as a hero, or as a conqueror?
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

a/n I do not own Zelda, but I guess you've already assumed that.

_My country lay within a vast desert. When the sun rose into the sky, a burning wind punished my lands, searing the world. And when the moon climbed into the dark of night, a frigid gale pierced our homes. No matter when it came, the wind carried the same thing... Death. But the winds that blew across the green fields of Hyrule brought something other than suffering and ruin. I coveted that wind, I suppose._

-Ganondorf, The Wind Waker

The bright sun shone mercilessly one the endless expanse of the Gerudo Desert. The dry sand and red clay covered the land for as far as the eye could see. They say that in the beginning, the goddess Din favored this land above all others, and she favored it with her fury. The burning sun bore witness of that, as did the empty skies and barren earth.

Din was not a goddess to be loved. She was a goddess to be reverenced and respected, like the desert. A man did not love the desert, not like he loved water or the lush, green fields that sustained him. When a man said that he loved the desert, he meant that as he sat under a palm tree drinking from a sure water supply, he could admire the majesty and power of the endless, arid plain. When a man was burning under the blazing sun, drinking lizard blood to moisten his crusty throat, trying to stave off death until the next oasis, he did _not_ love the desert. He hated it, he feared it, the desert overwhelmed him.

From a palm tree's shade, drinking from his waterskin, Ganondorf Dragmire loved the desert in a respectful, reverent sort of way. It wasn't the most comfortable place to live, but miles upon miles of barren wasteland did wonders at keeping the neighbors away.

Neighbors...That word didn't quite suite the Hyrulians who dwelt to the east in their lush, green pastures and gurgling streams. A thousand years ago, the people of Hyrule banished murderers and thieves to the Gerudo Desert, hoping that they would quietly die far away where they wouldn't have to look at them. For nearly a millennium, the Hyrulians had successfully lived in their edenic paradise in peace, for the most part forgetting the desert people to the west.

Then, a hundred years ago, a man touched by Din's power left the Gerudo Desert and led an army from the netherworld of shadow to the kingdom of Hyrule. They called him the King of Evil, the King of Light and Shadow. By his hand, the Land of Light fell and succumbed to darkness, if only for a moment.

Ganondorf bore no _specific_ ill will toward the eastern kingdom, but he couldn't help but think where he would be if that Gerudo man had retained the throne a hundred years ago.

He glanced at the boar he had ridden on. They had stopped at this oasis some time ago, and that pig was still slurping greedily at the small pool of water that marked this place. Boars weren't as fast as horses, but they were _strong._ Regardless of the difference of weight they could carry, a boar could plow a small building without slowing.

He got up and managed to pull his disgruntled animal from the water and climbed on top of it. That thing would drink like a camel if he let it, and Ganondorf wanted to get to Aveil before sunset.

He had a passion for swords. He grew up spending a lot of time learning how to use swords. It made him feel powerful, but he couldn't make a living off of something like that. It was too practical. If there arose a need for swordsmen, he would provide his services for free, and when you want to make a living, you can't afford to get paid only with your life. Magic, on the other hand, held far more impractical uses, the kinds of uses that could make an ambitious Gerudo rich.

Ganondorf liked the idea of being rich, for pretty much the same reason he liked swords.

The hours dragged on uneventfully until he saw the village outline of Aveil in the distance. It was unimpressive by any standard. The buildings were small and clay, and the tents, even at a distance, were flimsy and made of...tent...stuff. Why a witch would want to live in a place like this, Ganondorf couldn't begin to understand, but he understood very little about witches.

"Hey, you," he called out to the first villager he found. "I'm looking for the witch Koume. Do you know where she lives?"

The man was thin and middle aged. He looked at Ganondorf appraisingly, as if deciding whether to answer him. "What do you want with her?"

"Let's just say I have business with her and leave it at that."

He paused again. "Koume doesn't do much these days. Retired. If you're looking to buy something off of her—"

"I'm not," Ganondorf interrupted impatiently. "I have _business_ with her. I'm sure there are a lot of things you have to be doing, so if you could just tell me where I could find her, I'll be on my way."

The man shrugged dismissively and directed him to the witches residence. It was, as most of the buildings in Aveil, little to look at. Small, square, two stories, made of clay, a few windows. Kakkle had spoken highly of her, said that she was one of the most knowledgeable magic users of the whole desert. And yet it looked like she had chosen the scrawniest, most pathetic town to live in on the eastern half of Gerudo.

Ganondorf got off his boar in front of her house and knocked on her door uncertainly.

"What is it?" The voice was a croak, rough and unpleasant.

"I'd like to speak with Koume," he called.

He heard some grumbling and shuffling around before the door opened. An old hag blinked in the sunlight and looked him up and down. The word "hag" was no exaggeration, and "old" certainly wasn't. She had a nose that could dwarf a man's skull and wrinkly green skin that a lizard would be proud of. That, at least, was encouraging. Pretty people could never be expected to do anything competent.

"Well? What do you want?"

"I'm seeking an apprenticeship to learn sorcery," he said formally.

She looked him up and down. "You don't look much like a warlock." She glanced at the saber on the saddle of his boar. "You look more like a swordsman."

Ganondorf wasn't sure how to respond, so he didn't.

"Let me see your hands," she ordered. Ganondorf was half sure she was just looking for an excuse to turn him away, but he obeyed. She looked at his palms ritualistically, then examined the back of his hands as well. Koume glanced at his face a few times before speaking.

"In exchange for what?"

"In exchange...?"

"You don't expect me to teach you anything for _free,_ do you?" she asked, as though the very idea seemed blasphemous. "What are you going to give me in return?"

Ganondorf hesitated. The magician Kakkle suggested that he start an apprenticeship here, but from what he said, Ganondorf expected the witch to require little more than various odd jobs, like an assistant paid with knowledge.

"I'm quite partial to pork, you know." she hinted. "If you'd like to make a trade."

Ganondorf glanced over his shoulder at his boar. The creature was strong and loyal, and it would be betrayal to abandon it now, after it had dutifully carried him after some thirty miles of desert...and if he couldn't get this apprenticeship, the beast would carry him another thirty miles back home in vain.

"You have a deal."

WWW

That night, Ganondorf slept soundly on the hag's kitchen floor. It wasn't comfortable, but he cared nothing for comfort. He didn't need it, he didn't want it. The only thing he needed was _power._

And, in the morning that old, wrinkly witch would teach it to him. And that was his one desire. He had a weakness for strength.

WWW

The frozen howl of the night wind carried a song of fear. That sense of foreboding kept sleep from Koume, and for the life of her, she could not discern what it was. Winds of change, winds of darkness. Moonlit riddles and taunting answers.

_Hyrul__e._

Something happened in the golden land.

_Zelda._

The princess had...no. She hadn't died. It was something…else. A storm was brewing. And then there was that man.

Ambition shown in his eyes like an all consuming passion. And he was marked by fate, she was sure of it. That's why she had required his animal. She wanted to keep an eye on him for as long as possible. Because a storm was coming. A storm that had not seen its like for a hundred years.

WWW

a/n This is part of an idea that I've had for a while, and I've been trying to flesh it out. I'm not particularly thrilled with how the first chapter turned out, but things will pick up. If you didn't pick it up, this is about a hundred years after Twilight Princess, and this is not the same Ganondorf who conquered Hyrule a few times before. Just as Link is recreated form the beginning in every game, so is Ganondorf in this story. I've noticed that in every Zelda game, a hero with great courage goes on a quest to gain power sufficient to save Hyrule. In this story, the protagonist already has great power, and lacks only the hero's courage to save the land, and himself, from destruction. Unfortunately for me, however, I have no idea how.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

a/n I bet that all you people who read this in 2010 thought I'd never update this!

_Hatred follows you like a shadow, bound to you as you are bound to the earth you stand on.  
-Zelda_

The days passed quickly as Ganondorf studied magic under the witch Koume. It was like a part of him that he never knew existed was waking up. Swordsmanship was simple. You hacked a man apart based on the sharpness of your blade and the strength of your arm. But to light a man on fire by sheer willpower? It was madness. And he loved it.

His studies came to a halt when the Gerudo Desert fell into war.

WWW

War did not come in the traditional way, with frantic scouts or starving refugees. War merely marched into town and apologized politely for the inconvenience. Captain Ashen could have lit the little town of Aveil on fire, but he was courteous about nearly everything.

Captain Ashen was not an ambitious man, nor was he slothful. He was, in every sense of the word, a soldier. Some of his peers mistook brutality for strength, but he saw it as a lack of discipline. Queen Zelda had no quarrel with an entire province, but with a single thief alone. The rest needed to be kept from causing trouble.

Aveil had no wall about it. The endless desert around it was all the fortifications it had ever needed. He halted his army in front of the village proper. One did not ignore an army, and if he charged in uninvited, one of the residents might panic and do something foolish.

"Do you believe she is here, Agahnim?" he asked.

The wizard Agahnim scowled in his white robe and squinted in the sunlight. He grabbed his face and left a white handprint of frost as he froze his sweat into ice. "Someone's in there," he growled. "And not someone I'd like to face. Her powers had not waned with time, it seems."

"Do you believe you can take her?" Ashen asked.

Agahnim shook his head. Wizards did not join armies to fight. They used their powers to scry, communicate, and advise. "Not alone," he said. "I'll need a dozen archers with me. I should be able to neutralize her long enough for them to kill her should she resist."

The captain nodded as a middle aged Gerudo woman approached the army. Her red hair was tinged with grey and her tan skin had grown leathery with age. "If you are looking for Aveil, you've found it," she said. "Although I can't imagine why you would be. We have no issue with your people."

"Unfortunately, good Gerudo, that is not the case," Ashen replied gravely. "There has been a dispute between our two nations over the past few weeks. They escalated quickly, and Her Majesty Queen Zelda was forced to issue a declaration of war."

The woman's eyes widened. "I have heard of no such declaration."

"We are the declaration."

She scanned the army behind him and nodded. "And your intentions with my village?"

"War is, at its core, a disagreement between two people that a few hundred thousand others involve themselves in. I intend to prevent your village from becoming involved."

She nodded, waiting for him to continue.

"We will need to confiscate all weapons, which will be returned after the main conflict is concluded. Kitchen and farming implements may remain with you unless your people begin to use them as weapons. For the most part, your people will be able to continue go about their lives as they normally do. My men will not rob, plunder, or kill indiscriminately, however if your friend on the rooftop releases her arrow, that may change." He waved at a perched archer aiming at him.

The woman—Aveil's leader? Representative?—gauged the strength of the Hylian army again. "That sounds reasonable. Is there anything else?"

"Yes," he said. "There is the matter of the sorceress named Koume."

WWW

Ganondorf had been out buying mushrooms when the army came. He wasn't afraid. He couldn't remember ever being afraid. He was eager, until he realized that no one in the worthless backwater town wanted to fight.

He kicked open the door of Koume's hovel and brought in a bag of fungus. "Did you hear? We've been conquered. And what a glorious battle we just lost!" He dropped the bag on a table, leaned his sword against the wall, and sat down.

Koume didn't respond. She was staring into a mirror. She had said that you could see anything in a mirror if you knew how, even the future, but Ganondorf never managed anything besides his reflection.

"The world is turning," she whispered, "and we are numb to it. The ice screams, and we are deaf to it. Cowards rule, and we submit."

Ganondorf rolled his eyes. "Well, if you want to talk sense, I'll be in the other room."

Koume gasped and jumped back as though she had seen her own death in the mirror. She clutched her head and caught her breath.

"You okay?"

Her eyes darted frantically and landed on him as though seeing him for the first time. "You must leave!" she croaked.

"Well, if you need a moment..."

"Hasten to the golden land, thou o man of markéd hand. Free the dark and mock thy fate, lest the starlight withers late."

There was a knack for metaphor that you get after you turn ninety that Ganondorf didn't have. "Unless you start talking sense, old lady, I'll hasten all the way to—what was that about gold?"

The door opened and a man in radiant metal armor stepped inside. He carried a longsword designed to pierce the joints of the same sort of armor that would roast a man alive in the desert. Outside behind him stood several more men similarly armed and armored.

"Oh, look, our conquerors have arrived," Ganondorf said conversationally. "And they didn't even knock. If you're here to plunder, ravish, and murder, the people next door have more rupees and women whose ages are still in the double digits."

The Hyrulian soldier ignored him and addressed the witch. "Are you the sorceress Koume?"

Koume had recovered from her fit of...whatever it was, and stared at the man suspiciously, as though she expected him to try to sell her something that was no good. "I am."

"You are to come with us immediately," he said. "It would be best for everyone if this occurred without violence."

Ganondorf watched Koume carefully. Her mastery of fire was unequalled throughout the Gerudo Desert, she could burn water if she wanted to. It would be a hat trick to ignite these Hyrulian invaders, scorch their skin to a brittle crisp, melt their fat to oil to ooze out between the cracks. _Do it_, he thought. _Let someone in this barren waste have the heart to fight!_

"Well, alright," Koume said finally. She picked up her cane and hobbled out towards the door.

"What?" Ganondorf demanded. "What are you doing?"

"And who are you?" the soldier asked. "Are you a servant of some kind?"

"Apprentice." Servant? Did he _look _like a servant?

"I see. In that case, you will have to come with us as well."

Ganondorf eyed the place where he had set his sword. It was on the other side of the Hyrulian. "For what?"

"All practitioners of the arcane arts are required to leave the village," he explained. "We will supply suitable accommodations."

Ganondorf sneered. Only Hyrule could instigate a war and invade a country and be so disgustingly _polite_ about it. "You and what army?"

The man's hand drifted toward his sword. "We have a contingent of five hundred men just outside the city."

"That's it? Well call them over and we'll have something to talk about."

"If you're looking for magi, you're wasting your time on him," Koume said. "I speak from experience. I wasted two weeks on that whelp trying to teach him the meanest basics, and he can't even boil water."

"Teach me?" Ganondorf repeated indignantly. "Is that what you were trying to do? I thought that you just gave me your broom to sweep the floor because you were too fat to fly on it anymore!"

Koume fumed and Ganondorf could have sworn that he saw smoke coming out of her ears. "You ungrateful oaf! You're a big dumb buffoon who can't hold a clay pot without breaking it, let alone the fabric of reality!"

"And you're a withered old spinster who can do nothing with her life but wait until she dies alone!"

The witch's face contorted with rage. She drew her hands together and pulled fire out of the air. The fireball flew from her hands and blasted Ganondorf square in the chest, knocking him off his feet and slamming him against the wall. He fell to the ground in a smoldering heap, coughed, and growled, "I should have kept that pig."

Koume turned away from him dismissively towards the Hyrulians, who had drawn swords in the chaos. It seemed to dawn on them that their swords, their armor, and their training would do nothing against a sorceress of her power. "Well?" she said. "Are we leaving?"

The head soldier sheathed his sword and nodded. He also picked up Ganondorf's sword on the way out. "We will also need to confiscate all weapons. If you have any others, you may turn them in at your earliest convenience."

WWW

Agahnim watched Koume as she left the limits of Aveil. He had grown up hearing legends about her, how she had bound the Fairy Queen and tamed dragons. When he heard that she had retired in a remote town, he knew in his bones that it was a hoax, that she was planning something great and terrible and secret.

Escorted by a squad of soldiers, she continued her deception, hobbling slowly with the help of a cane. Agahnim scanned the cane for secrets, but it appeared ordinary. Of course, that would be too obvious, and why would a sorceress like Koume need to store her magic in a walking stick?

Agahnim bowed lowly to her. "I apologize for the inconvenience, Mistress Koume."

"Bah. The town was stale anyway."

"You will be escorted to our main force immediately."

"I hope you don't expect me to walk there."

"Transportation will be provided." Agahnim considered having her hands chained together, but that would do nothing more than insult her.

"Fine," she said. "As long as I don't have to walk."

Agahnim held back one of the soldiers as the others led her away. "Were there any difficulties?"

He shook his head. "Not with us, sir. There was a disagreement with her apprentice, but she came without argument."

"She has an apprentice?" Agahnim asked. "And you didn't bring her too?"

"Him, sir," the soldier said. "And the witch was very insistent on the subject. I thought it best to not press point while she was around."

Agahnim pondered that. He felt a great power in this little Gerudo town and had assumed it was Koume. But he had seen Koume, and either she had a phenomenal ability to conceal her power, or...

"This apprentice of Koume's," he said. "What was he like?"

"Hostile."

WWW

The apprentice had venom green skin. That was rare among the Gerudo, but so was being left handed among Hylians. He didn't have the build of a magus, but of a warrior. At over seven feet tall, some people couldn't look down on him from a _horse_, and what stood out to the soldiers was that he was _hostile._

What would call such a man to a life of books? Agahnim scried him from his mirror within his tent, looking for some clue. Magic called for a subtle touch, and this apprentice did not appear to be a subtle man. And yet, Koume had chosen him, and despite the impression she tried to perpetuate, she was always up to something.

The witch's hut was full of mirrors and windows, maybe even ones that she had built herself. Agahnim watched the apprentice through them, and waited.

WWW

Ganondorf paced the empty halls of Koume's hut. It wasn't a large hut, just an adobe house with a few rooms, but it was empty. Was it his, now? Koume was gone, and it didn't seem like she'd be back. Did that make the place his? What would he do with it? He didn't want it. He wanted to...

He wanted to fight. He always wanted to fight, but now, he had an enemy, and they were right there, and what was stopping him? It was night and they'd all be asleep except for a few sentries. He could just march up to a sentry, break his arm, take his sword, and...and work out a way to deal with the other five hundred Hyrulians.

Ganondorf stopped in front of a mirror. He didn't know why Koume had so many. If he had a face like hers, he wouldn't want to see it all the time. His reflection was a black silhouette in the darkness.

"Why are you still here?" he asked his reflection.

There was nothing for him in this insignificant town. There never was, except for Koume, and they had taken her. To be executed? No, not likely. She'd go along with the Hyrulians until she figured out whatever secret she was looking for, blow up something important, and disappear in the smoke.

"What do you want?" he demanded.

He didn't need to learn magic. He had gotten by without it his whole life, but now that he knew it, there was no going back. He couldn't experience the chaos of the world kneeling before him, and then become a, a _potter_, or a _carpenter._

A thief was a noble profession among the Gerudo, but it wasn't for him. His little sister, Nabooru, was quick and nimble enough to be one of the greats, but Ganondorf? He was strong, but it was a clumsy strength. His arcane aptitude, though, there was no clumsiness in that. He never put much faith in destiny or fate, but if he did, he'd say that magic was part of who he was, who he had always been.

Who he...

He stared into the shadow in the mirror, and the shadow stared back. The reflection was pitched black, except for a glint of light caught in his eye.

"_Who are you?"_ he screamed, and shattered the mirror with his fist.

WWW

Agahnim dropped the broken mirror and jumped back. He tried to calm his breathing and his pulse. The point of scrying was to watch things from a safe distance, but from _that_ thing, no distance was safe. Agahnim could have sworn that when that man had shattered the mirror, his hand had come through it. And on that hand he saw...

But no, that was impossible. He had formed a firm simulacrum between his mirror and the mirror he was looking through. He had put too much tension on the connection, looked through it too closely, and with a strong enough surge on the other end and enough constructive interference, then of course something was bound to give out. There was nothing to be worried about.

But Agahnim was a wizard. Being hopeful was another man's job. He stepped outside his tent summoned a passing soldier.

"Send a message to Captain Ashen," he ordered. "Tell him that I need to speak with him immediately." He looked up. The stars were brighter in the desert than in Hyrule. The captain would probably be asleep at this hour. "Tell him it's urgent."

WWW

a/n So, yeah. There's a limit to how much you can daydream about a story before you have to get back to writing it. Agahnim is named after the wizard in _A Link to the Past_. It's kind of sad, really. I was playing that game a while ago when I should have been studying for finals, and afterwards, I felt more accomplished about beating the game than finishing the semester. Not every quote will be canon, and I made up the one at the top of the chapter. Anyway, let me know what you think.


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